


Betrayal

by wolph



Series: Angel/Demon Universe [1]
Category: Supernatural, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angel Erik, Angst, Betryal, Demon Charles, Demon/Angel Verse, M/M, Mild Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-22
Updated: 2012-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-31 14:31:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/345105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolph/pseuds/wolph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Charles choked on Erik's name, the Angel of God stood strong and kept his grip on his sword. </p><p>"I'm sorry Charles," Erik whispered. He wasn't sure if Charles could hear it over his cries. Erik knew he fucked up. He fucked up hard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Betrayal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zimothy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zimothy/gifts).



> this is a gift for zimothy who kind of introduced me to the idea of demon charles and angel erik with the little snippets done on tumblr ! couldn't get enough and all i could think of was this idea of the au paring. i kinda slapped them in the Supernatural Universe ... mainly because of love SPN and that way I don't have to make up a mythos base.  
> i apologize, this is a rough/no-beta copy... i had to fight to find a word processor with spell check because all i had was word pad. But AH-HA ! i got it, so now at least it has SOME editing.  
> Might turn this into series of one-shots, I have a couple already that continue on from where this one ends - but i'll see how i feel.
> 
> for those interested - the entire time i was writing this i was listening to Clint Mansell - Dead Reckoning - go ahead and check it out.
> 
> p.s: sorry for the crappy title and summary.

Charles inhaled, the blood bubbling in his throat and spilling over those sinful lips. His hands shook at his side, unsure of what to do - should he pull it out? should he leave it? the human instinct that still existed told him to yank it out, but it was an Angel's sword, he could feel the fiery burn of its metal invading his body already, if he were to grab it would it make it worse?

Charles struggled to gulp down the blood building in his throat, but only resulted in a coughing fit that shook his body and blinded him with white fiery pain. He groaned leaning back but the sword held strong and wouldn't allow him the freedom he begged for.

What had brought him to this moment?

Charles wracked his brain trying to remember. He saw flashes, a kiss, a pull, flesh touching flesh and soft whispers, _forbidden_ whispers. He remembers the fire, the pleasurable burn of angelic grace that caressed his skin.

He had never fucked an Angel before. They were supposed to be chaste; he must have gotten the lone one with some experience because _this_ Angel was far from virginal. Not with the way he commanded Charles' body, how he pulled every orgasm and scream of pleasure. He could still feel the nails biting into his flesh as he rode the Warrior of God into the bed. He too pulled some rather blasphemous words from the Angels lips, and how he enjoyed making the Angel scream.

For a moment Charles forgot what they were. An Angel and a Demon. Instead they were two being, existing in one moment to enact a primal and beautiful act, _the act of love_ as the humans liked to call it.

And Charles could say that he indeed he could have felt love. Love for this Angel that had been sent bleed him. His mission was to gather information by any means necessary. Charles doubted _fucking_ it out of him was on Heavens list of acceptable torture techniques.

Charles let out a cry as the sword twisted in his gut, he couldn't stop his hands from grabbing onto the holy metal, his skin sizzling at the contact. He felt his eyes flicker, his control over his host weaning, he felt the life essence draining almost as if the sword was sucking it from him.

His host was growing weak.

Charles looked up at the face of his executioner. Charles had heard stories of Angels. The armies had not felt the need to fall from Heaven in millennium, until now. He had been told that they were as deadly as they were beautiful and this Angel only proved the rumors to be so right.

From the faint auburn locks of hair that twisted and curled around his ears, to the blue and grey eyes that seared Charles very demonic essence. His face looked like it had been carved by a master sculptor; the high cheek bones, brow arches and perfect jaw. His skin looked smooth and perfect, but even now Charles could see the sweat drag across the skin and stagger around the short hairs of his stubble. He was perfect.

"Erik..." Charles gasped out, blood spilling down his lips.

Erik’s vessel was a perfect specimen; it was only fair to suspect that his true face was just as beautiful.

And it was.

Charles had seen the true visage in the throes of passion. They had curled around each other, Erik pulling himself over Charles and Charles happily submitting. His perfect body thrusting into Charles, begging for release and in that moment, something _happened_.

It was as if both men had been transported to a different world, a world of their true selves. Charles had arched his back, screaming out Erik's name, his hosts pale flesh dissolving leaving behind the inky essence. His essence was black and shifted forming into hard mass against the white light of Erik. He could feel the heat, the _all-consuming_ fire of the Holy visage. Charles had to _look_ , he didn't care if his eyes burned out of his sockets, the heat was commanding and begged to be seen.

So Charles opened his eyes.

He felt his heart stopped.

Above him was a human form, white marble in contrast to his black. His form was slick and undefined but Charles could still feel the warm bicep under his hand, the muscle obviously there. Erik's head was thrown back his beautiful neck exposed and two enormous wings spread out bursting from his back. They were like glass ignited illuminated by a white light, but they still fluttered like they were built from feathers.

At first Charles was confused, why was he not burning? He seen the aftermath of battle fields where the Demons eyes were burned out from seeing the true forms, but here he was staring at the true form of an Angel, and his eyes were intact – maybe God was taking pity on them.

In that moment time slowed and when Erik looked down, Charles expect disgust. He would finally see what was under the flesh of his host, the vile creature twisted and deformed over the years and years of hatred and suffering that he had consumed and inflicted on all those souls.

But he didn't.

Charles stopped breathing as Erik reached down and cupped Charles’ black cheek.

"You are beautiful..." Erik had said. Charles didn't think it was possible to cry, not like this but he felt the hot tears streak down his face and pool below him. He couldn't stop the crying, nor the agonizing pain that rippled into his chest, into his _heart_ and with that Erik leaned down and captures Charles's black lips in his own white and kissed him. The kiss was not as invasive as their previous ones, but it was just as passionate, the spark of Erik's grace caressing the soft folds of Charles lips.

And with one final thrust both men cried out in pleasure and returned to the Earth realm.

When they came back, it looked like a bomb had gone off in the shitty motel room. The walls were charred, the windows blown out, the television scorched. Charles couldn't help but smile and laugh making lewd comments on how their love making at burned the place down. Erik simply blushed and shoved Charles off the bed.

They had been happy, for a brief moment.

And now they were back to this. Charles on his knees before Erik who had driven his Holy sword through his chest.

As Charles choked on Erik's name, the Angel of God stood strong and kept his grip on his sword.

"I'm sorry Charles," Erik whispered. He wasn't sure if Charles could hear it over his cries. Erik knew he fucked up. He fucked up hard.

-

It wasn't supposed to happen like this. He had been given a mission, a mission to find Lilith’s lieutenant and gather all the information on the six hundred and sixty-six seals as possible. He was planning on beating it out of the demon, but then he had found Charles. He didn't know what had brought him to talk to Charles, but he did.

That was his first mistake.

He should have just snatched the vile creature up and taken him back to the Garrison for torture.

Instead they talked, Erik laughed and Charles smiled.

Then they fucked like rabbits.

Erik was already on Heaven's shit list. For a brief moment in the 1930's he had fallen from Heaven and chosen to live life as a mortal man.

He married a beautiful mortal woman named Madga, birthed a son and managed a farm outside of the Polish capital. Everything was perfect.

And then the Nazi's came.

Most of the higher-ups in the Nazi regime turned out to be demons, they knew who he was and taunted him - they tortured Madga in front of him and killed both her and his son. They made Erik burn the bodies. At that moment Erik screamed out for vengeance, begging and pleading his Father to grant him this one moment, this one chance to come back so that he might let down divine wrath on the demonic kind for what they had done.

Only one Angel answered his call. _Castiel_.

The elder Angel had risked much giving Erik back his grace, letting him return to Heaven and to fight alongside his brothers and sisters against the demonic forces using the World Wars as a front for opening the seals. He owed Castiel everything.

And so when Castiel came and asked him to take on this mission he could not deny.

Erik wished he had. Because he had now found himself falling _in love_ with the very creature he wished to destroy, the very creature that had taken everything has a mortal man.

But when he saw Charles, for what he really was - he also saw that Charles hated himself, it was all reflected back at him in Charles' black flesh. Charles wasn't the creature that had tortured and killed his family, he was something else.

But that didn't matter. He was enemy and Erik had a mission.

-

He twisted his grip causing the Holy sword to twist again and Charles cried out. With a slick gush of red blood Erik removed the sword from Charles gut and held it firmly at his side.

Charles's human body crumpled and he fell onto his hands, the blood dripping in globs from the wound in his gut. Charles coughed and hacked splattering more of the red blood onto the ground.

Erik's sword had a faint glow from the life essence it had sucked out of Charles host. He didn't know how much time Charles had left before he either had to evacuate the body or die with the host. Either way Charles didn't have much time because he had already called to the Garrison. Soon they would arrive and take Charles away, Erik had only gathered a little bit of information from Charles, but Charles knew more and the Garrison had demanded he be brought before Zachariah to be questioned.

Erik's hand shook violently as he watched Charles struggle to compose himself. He barely managed to pull his torso up so he could look up to Erik. His lips were now a bright red, thanks only to the blood that had gushed down his chin staining the white flesh of his host. His bright blue eyes stared back at Erik, and Erik could feel the sizzling power of their gaze. He could hear the confused thoughts of Charles, they were deafening as he questioned this current situation, and what shocked Erik more was that none of these questions or statement rolling around in Charles head blamed Erik.

Erik struggled to hold back the hot tears that were building, he couldn't show weakness. Not when _they_ were so close.

"E-e-rik..." Charles stuttered out. Erik's attention snapped back to the demon _Charles_ (he corrected) at his feet. Charles hands were pressed firmly against his gut, trying to stop the bleeding but it only gushed out between his fingers.

Erik thought he was going to be sick, the amount of blood and the copper tastes that licked his senses made him nauseous. But no matter how grotesque the scene before him was, he couldn't look away. He owed Charles that much.

Silence passed through them, both of them just staring into each other’s eyes.

"... Why?" Charles asked. Erik felt his face break, his lips twitching for a moment into a frown. He felt his gut twist and shake, he for sure thought he was going to vomit right there but he didn't he held on.

_Why?_

He had to give Charles an answer; he had to justify this, why he was betraying him, why he was handing him over to the armies of Heaven. But he couldn't think of one. Was it because he was a good solider? because he was getting back at the demons for what they did to his family?

_Why?_

Erik inhaled, his body trembling as Charles patiently waited for his answer.

"Because ... I'm a Warrior of God, and you are a Servant to Lucifer we are enemies in this battle for humanity and nothing else."

He saw Charles break. His face contorted into a vast amount of emotions, _heartbreakbetrayalhatredangerdepression **pity**_. Erik didn’t understand, why did he see pity. Why did Charles pity him! He had stabbed him in the chest and now was offering up Heaven to be tortured, and of all of the emotions that he could decide to _feel_. He felt pity for Erik.

"Oh my friend, I'm so sorry that, that is what you believe..." Charles said chuckling and choking on his own blood.

Before Erik could snap back at Charles naivety he felt the flutter of wings brush across his shoulders. Charles face instantly hardened and those beautiful blue eyes glazed over black before blinking back to blue.

Erik didn't dare turn around, he didn't want to let go of Charles gaze, and he thought that if he did he'd break.

A strong hand came up onto his shoulder, gripping the muscle and soothing it.

"Erik."

Against his own will Erik turned to look at the Angel to his side. The Angel's vessel was a shorter man, dressed in a suit and tie that had long lost its tightness, and a beige overcoat. His face showed the deep weariness and struggle he had been going through _fighting_ on the frontlines of their war, and Erik couldn't help but compare his lifeless blue eyes to Charles bright and full ones.

"Castiel..." Erik whispered before bowing his head to his Commander.

"Is this the _demon_ ," a feminine voice called to him. She practically spat out the word and it made Erik want to turn around and throttle her. _Anna_.

Erik simply nodded in case he words betrayed him and he told the elder Angel where she stick her fucking sword.

Castiel watched Erik carefully before letting go of his shoulder and stalking towards Charles, another Angel _Uriel_ coming up to flank Castiel. Uriels vessel was a large African American who's bald head gleamed under the moonlight.

"Oh Zachariah is going to have fun with you pretty boy..." He chuckled out. Erik twitched, his skin bubbling with the urge to take on these Angel and drag Charles off and away to somewhere they couldn't touch them. But Erik could never stand against these three; they would smite him within seconds.

Castiel turned and kneeled down his fingers coming up to touch under Charles chin which pulled a low growl from Erik. All of the Angels seemed to ignore it.

Instead Charles turned to look up at Castiel.

"Are you ready..." Castiel asked in a calm tone.

"I will tell you nothing," Charles spat out, the small flecks of blood splattering across Castiels human face. Castiel pulled back, his fingers coming up to smear the blood from his cheeks.

"That’s what they all say..." Castiel said with an ominous tone.

"Take him," commanded Anna. Erik saw the raw pain in Charles face, his mask cracking. Uriel and Castiel reached down and lopped their arms under his pits and pulling him to his feet.

Charles screamed as his body was jerked tall, blood gushing from between the fingers against his wounds.

_I'm sorry Charles_

It was on the tip of his tongue but before Erik could cry out, Charles was _gone_.

Leaving in a flutter of invisible wings all three Angel disappeared with Charles in their grasp. Erik suddenly felt like he had been holding his breath the entire time, and with a shudder he dropped to his knees, his sword falling to the side with a heavy clank.

Erik screamed, he screamed a loud as he could for as long as could. Hot tears snaking their way down his cheeks, waves of sobs wracking his body Erik couldn't breathe with all the pain that had consumed his body.

_What have I done..._

-

When Erik had finally returned to Heaven he found himself sitting on a bench, a familiar bench in front of a playground. It was one of the many Heavens the Earthy patrons had created. It was beautiful.

Erik was struggling to hold it together as the sound of fluttering echoed in his ears. Without looking he knew it was Castiel.

He didn't say anything, neither of them did.

They just sat and watched the scene of a woman playing with her young daughter on an old playground.

"I'm sorry..." was all Castiel said. Erik said nothing, he didn't nod, didn't shake - didn't move.

They sat like this for hours. Night had fallen in this Heaven and the playground had been long abandoned.

"What have I done Castiel..." Erik asked. His voice threatened to crack under the strain of everything. He turned to stare at the Angel that he been his only true friend for all these years. His eyes turned to gaze back at Erik and he let out a deep sigh.

"You were following orders..." and with that Castiel left Erik to himself.

He couldn't remember when he stopped crying.

-

Charles was in a daze, he didn't know how long he had been gone. He just remembers the pain, the _violation_ \- he thought for a moment that maybe Alastair should take some notes from the Angels on torture. He had been healed, his host body perfect and restored. He was not in any physical pain, but his insides burned and twisted.

He felt like they had burned the essence out of him, and many a times they had come close to burning him out of existence. They had shed the light on every dark corner of his soul, every human he damned, every throat he slit, every life he extinguished - he felt it _all_.

But it only made him hate himself even more. He hated what he had become and hated everything that he was.

Maybe Erik was right turning him over to the Angels.

Charles felt the cold chill creep over his flesh. It snaked its way under his skin and gripped onto his demonic soul tightly before he realized someone was touching him. Only one person had this effect on him, only one person could elicit the raw fear and panic inside of him.

"Alastair..." he said breathlessly. The deep and throaty chuckle was close to his ear. He wanted to close his eyes and believe that this was only a dream, a sick and twisted dream. But it wasn't, he was here with Alastair and he knew why.

He had told battle plans and guarded secrets to an Angel, and then the Heavenly armies had _pried_ the rest of the secrets from him.

It was only fitting that he be Alastair’s new _canvas_. Alastair enjoyed painting metaphors too much, but if torture were an art form, he would be the master.

"Oh _Charles_ , how the mighty have fallen - I'm going to enjoy playing with you. We are going to be the best of friends," Alastair said, his fingers coming to snag in Charles hair and yank his head back to expose his throat.

At first Charles was thinking of how he could get out of this, maybe he could beg and plead, offer himself over to others as penance, but all those ideas came to a crashing halt.

What the Angels had shown him, of his life - of who he _really_ was.

He deserved this.

With a calming breath Charles thought of that one moment of pure happiness, lying with Erik - seeing what he was and how he looked back at Charles true form unflinching.

He held onto that memory and allowed one last smile to grace his lips.

" _Let get this over with_."

And with that Alastair dragged Charles into Hell.

 


End file.
